His Mistrust In Mrs
Apathetic brazen cur, demanding every forever, gave herself insurance, joining King Lunarctic.
‘Look, more nonsense openly pressures Quality, reassure saintly thoughts.’
‘You’re…’ He continues the game.
She interupts, ‘…the redefination of vitamin c?’
‘If you really want eternal bliss, you need to admit that someone is a miss,’ says Ex.
‘On his wrist,’ says the watch, ‘Timeless: Setting the pace for the rest of the race.’
Multifaceted, Mrs Place/Time&Space says: ‘You’re a polar bear, hunting the nameless, shame in the shameless.’
‘I’m the distributer of grace, Who wants to be famous? My name is Vicious, observing the ambitious, living through pictures!’
‘Entirely fictitious,’ she says, ‘ridiculous!’
He says, ‘Meticulous.’
His palms are callous from counting all the ballots.
‘Please, we are the epitome.’
‘I am a god.’
‘Damn, Humans with destinies.
I do this easily, the mystery eluded me once, now it’s playingfully.’
‘I’m a venusian martial artist with a penchant for unrelentless deviancy.’
‘Wing Tsun is my profession.’
‘They say tricks are for kids? We’ll fix this on a quick trip.’
With a sip of rip and a dip of drip he slips into her crypt.
He is the catalyst, he flips the script an leaves it, missed.
Kind of different.
But exactly as he left it.
‘Vicious?’ She queries, ‘When? Ex, it is 10:15pm,’
He starts, ‘Why?’
She middles, ‘Deaf? Are broken careless dreams effortlessly feinting ghostly hearts?’
A pause. ‘I’m just kidding, Love,’
He ends, ‘Most nocturnal orphans pressure quotes, ravens stupidly trusted you.’
‘Ex,’ she ponders, ‘You’re Zoo?’
He answers, ‘Blasphemous! Caught dead every Friday, general humanity isn’t just, kindly lost, mindless numb orphaned princesses quell rudimentary strays.’
‘Useful valuable warez?’
The question hangs.
‘Apocalypticish, Born careful, dreamers easily fashion gurus, however, I just kill lies. My name’s Perfection.’
‘(slash)-qash (hash)-Random’ scribes the umbrella, vehemently.
‘Why?’
‘Exactly. Yes.’
‘Zealous?’
‘All barbarians crave death, evil’s fatalistic glory.’
‘Holy?’ I jest, kneeling.
Laughing myself nameless.
Often, Princesses quizzically reassure souls though.
Unlimited value?
Why, Exactly!
Yes, Zero.
@6 hours ago
